No More Rain
by hideousbeauty
Summary: Just a quick insight into a life of a just another man. ((Rated for brief mention of a trigger-suicide.)) ((One-shot.))


He spun around in his chair. Once. Twice. Three times before he stopped himself, facing the screen once again. Tongue darting out to moisten his lips, his tired eye scanned over the percentage bar that hadn't seemed to move for hours. They glanced down to the clock. It had only been three minutes. With a heavy sigh he brought himself to his feet and stretched his arms over his head, his loose sweatshirt rising up ever so slightly. He pushed his worn leather chair to the side, and it reluctantly gave into him with a groan.

Opening his creaky door and pushing the female cat in front of the threshold away gently with his toe, he made his way through the hallway and towards the lights he could see towards the staircase. As he passed their room, he could hear the quiets mews from his sister and her lover trying to coax the newest addition to his family to sleep for the night. He held his breath without thinking and quickened his pace before his silence was enough to stir the little girl.

Tiptoeing down the bare, wooden stairs, his hand gliding noiselessly over the railing, his eyes squinted the tiniest amount as they adjusted to the new found brightness that was so in contrast to his bedroom. Reaching out as he got closer, his fingers found the handle of his shared refrigerator before he opened it slowly. Looking over the boxes and containers- some labelled, some not- he quickly found the leftover Indian food that he'd made sure to bring home after his day out alone on the town.

It was something he enjoyed doing, going out alone while he waited for uploads to finish their things. It was an odd feeling for him. Being so well known for a voice and a few videos where he only acted a fool playing games like any other guy his age and then heading back out into the world, into his own life, where he was just... him. No fame to follow, no one recognizing him on the street. Which is exactly how he liked it, of course, but... It astounded him sometimes. To think that hundreds, even thousands of people, just happened to click on a few of the silly videos he'd posted out of fun and curiosity... and now all of this. Comments, fans even, harassment, money, offers, threats. He was just a guy. A guy who played video games.

The sound of the microwave going off pulled him from his thoughts quickly, and he quickly opened it to stop the chiming before the sound carried itself up to the ears of the child trying to sleep. He shook his head, gathering the contents from the appliance and closing it quietly. As he grabbed a fork from the drain next to the sink where it was sat out to dry, he thought about how he'd been finding his mind wander more and more recently. About silly things that needed no second thoughts. About how much his life has changed so much in only a few years. Mostly... He found himself thinking about all of the recent times he's had to stop himself from so many things so as to not upset anyone too much. Of course, it was his life, and he couldn't really do much else except for be him. But... Maybe it's just that sometimes those nameless faces attached to hateful comments didn't realize that he really was... just some guy.

He remembered back to two recent events in particular- one a girl who claimed to be his age telling him that his recent love interest had shattered hers and many other hearts; another one a girl who might have been a little younger asking for help on her suicidal thoughts. People were beginning to control him, even though it was the last thing he ever wanted to admit.

Making his way back into his bedroom and into the chair formed just right for his body now, he looked over at the bar now. Almost done. And so with the next few moments of peace, he stuck his fork into the container and enjoyed his silence and his leftovers. Humming ever so quietly to himself, he checked his phone. No new messages. And he dared not look into his emails anymore.

He had to ask himself why he did this still, why he tortured himself to edit these stupid videos and be on this deadline system that had somehow been set. Of curse, he was human, and there was no way to always meet it- but he knew it was disappointing someone somewhere. He knew that there was income thanks to this little game, but... He had to question if it was really worth it. Maybe he did make a lot of people happy with what he did, but was the emotional toil on himself- that sometimes even affected him physically- really worth all of this now?

But as he finished his meal, clicked off the now finished percentage bar, and logged onto Skype and Twitch... As he saw the number of viewers already waiting for him and heard his voice for the first time that day greet his friends he'd come to know and love because of this... He smiled to himself.

"Hey, Cry! How's it been?"  
"Cry, how are you?"  
"Hey! I've got something so cool to tell you!"  
"Let's get started, man!"  
"What's up first, Cry?"

Maybe he could last just a little longer.


End file.
